Past Perfect
by AncientzDream
Summary: The ending of a war and the death of Voldemort leaves the Wizarding world in a state of recovery and seemingly idyllic peace. What would Harry's future have been if his past had been closer to perfect? Various pairingsAUSlash&HetPowerful!Political!Harry


**Author's Note: **Welcome to the fruits of a months worth of writing during the National Novel Writing Month Challenge! I hope you enjoy my most recent creation. Cheers!

**A note on pairings:** Various and sundry pairings will occur through the course of this story. I will make a notation at the beginning of each chapter if it contains a note worthy pairing.

**Disclaimer:** The Potter 'Verse belongs to JKR. I make no money. I'm just borrowing the boys and girls for a little fun before I dust them off and put them back where they belong.

**Thoughts & Mental conversations**

_Letters, etc_

"_Love of two is one_

_Here but now they're gone_

_Came the last night of sadness_

_And it was clear she couldn't go on_

_Then the door was open and the wind appeared_

_The candles blew then disappeared_

_The curtains flew then he appeared..."_ /i 

- Blue Oyster Cult "Don't Fear the Reaper

A young woman paced restlessly in the living room of an obviously wealthy family, her red hair swirling around her tall and slender form like visibly lashing tendrils of her discontented emotions. Turning startlingly bright green eyes on her dark haired husband when he entered the room, she attempted to smile for him and managed only a tremulous shadow of her usual happiness.

"Something is very wrong, James. Peter should have been here by now if he was going to make it. Please tell me our fears were all for naught…I don't want to believe he would do some thing so vile…"

Stepping in to embrace his wife, James Potter held her tightly and buried his face in her soft red hair as her sense of foreboding infected his own mood. Rubbing her back with both hands, he shook his head and used the action to rub his cheek against hers. **It wasn't supposed to be like this, **he thought. **We were supposed to live to be an old married couple with a houseful of grandchildren.**

"I wish I could say what you want to hear, Lils, but…we have done everything in our power to keep them from finding us. If they come, we'll fight. Now, let's go look in on Harry. You'll feel better when you see that he's up there in his bed, safe and sleeping like the baby he is."

"Yes, you're right…" Lily froze when a familiar knock sounded on the door. She started to smile a little and took a step towards the door, only to pause because she could feel the power of the evil man who stood on the other side with the one they had called friend. Shaking her head in silent denial, she fought down the urge to scream with frustration and bone deep terror. "No, not now…it can't be happening so soon…He's here, James!"

"Take Harry and go! You have to try to get out of here!" James shoved her towards the stairs when she shook her head and started to protest. "Dammit, Lily! Go! Run! I'll hold him off as long as I can!"

Choking back a sob, Lily kissed James briefly but fiercely and turned to stumble from the room. Angrily swiping at the tears that threatened to blind her, the young Witch took one last look at her husband and ran up the stairs towards her son's room. "I love you, James," she whispered and shut the door to her child's room behind her before moving to look down at him. A door burst open with the deafening roar of a powerful reducto followed by the sound of a cackle of high-pitched laughter and she flinched visibly. "I'm so sorry, baby…I'm so sorry…" 

Shielding himself from the destruction of the front door, James faced down the fearsome wizard who stood framed by the ruined remains of the doorframe and felt his hope sputter and begin to die when he looked past him and saw Peter waiting just behind him. The rat-like young man stood wringing his hands as he always did when he was nervous about some thing and James snarled at him.

"How could you betray us, Peter?" he whispered and focused completely on the intimidating presence of Lord Voldemort. "Get out of my home, you bastard! Reducto! Expelliarmus! Reducto!"

"Admirable sentiment though it may be to protect one's wife and heir, you will not stop me," Voldemort stated calmly while swaying gracefully out of the way of his opponent's spells. "Crucio!" he snarled and was more than happy to settle in for a good duel, no matter how brief. "Praemium Somes! Agon Verbero! Animus Intorqueo!"

Dodging and shielding as best he could, James fought to give his wife time to escape the house with their child. Beyond caring about any repercussions he might face regarding his choice of spells, he retaliated in kind. He was going to make the bastard work for it even if it was the last thing he ever did. Peter ducked out of the way of his next round of spells with a frightened squeak and he allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction.

"Nex Pulsus! Igneus Cruor!" he cried out even as he ducked and shielded against Voldemort's next volley of spells. The force of his own spells did damage to the interior walls but did not punch through as he would have expected and a cold feeling of dread began to fill his chest. **They sealed the house and the alarms didn't go off…that little bastard! "**Chalybs Partes!"

Arching an eyebrow at the surprisingly dark volley of spells he was avoiding from his now visibly desperate opponent, Voldemort smirked and focused on the man's rhythm of movement and patterns of avoidance. Shielding against a high velocity spray of dagger like shards of metal when James cast his last spell, the Dark Lord nodded to the younger man and cast his own volley. "Senium Ventus. Pectoris Iuguolo. Crucio!"

Darting out of the way of the first two debilitating or fatal spells, James did exactly as the more seasoned duellist expected and dodged directly into the path of Voldemort's Cruciatus curse. Tensing when he saw no way to dodge back away from it, James screamed and fell thrashing to the floor.

Amusing himself with the man's screams for a brief moment, Voldemort shook his head and released the spell. He wasn't here to toy with these people; he was here to destroy them. Waiting until James was half way to his feet and about to look up at him before bothering to cast one last spell, he took aim and spoke the last two words James Potter would ever hear.

"Avada Kedavra."

The pain stopped abruptly and James struggled to get back to his feet, hazel eyes going wide as he looked up expecting to see his opponent and saw only the familiar green light that was death. He fell limply back to the floor, his wand rolling free of his now lax grip.

Running up the stairs as the front door exploded open behind and below her, Lily darted into her son's room and paused only a moment to look down at him before tugging at the windows in an effort to get even one of them to open. When they refused to budge, she tried every opening and cancelling spell she could think of before stepping back with a cry of frustration. Frantically trying the windows again, Lily stepped back and took aim at the nearest one so that the unlikely but now anticipated ricochet would not hit her or Harry if they truly were in a Sealed house as she had come to believe. There hadn't been nearly enough sounds of damage to the structure below for the kinds of spells she assumed were being cast and that worried her a great deal given what was duelling with her husband just a flight of stairs away.

"Reducto!" she growled and ducked down when it bounced away from the window without even hitting it and hit the opposite wall with much less force than she would have hoped or expected.

"Bloody hell! Damn you, Voldemort!!" Turning this way and that, she looked for any other way out of the room other than the stairs she had used to get there and moaned her despair. James screamed for several long moments and then Harry started to cry, shrill pain filled wails that sent an icy cold shiver of fear down her spine even as the shock of no longer being able to feel James through the ritual bond and the surge of magical energy that signalled his death left her swaying and disoriented. Stumbling over to stand between the door and the crib that held her child, Lily drew herself up tall and waited for the inevitable as tears ran unheeded down her pale face and the love of two became one.

Stalking up the stairs like he owned the home he had just defiled, Voldemort heard the cries of the child and smirked viciously when the bedroom door opened obediently under his wordless and wandless command. The first thing he saw was Lily standing between him and his goal and, inexplicably, he paused.

"Not Harry! Please not my little boy," Lily pleaded the moment the door had begun to swing open and showed her the face of her tormentor. All she could hope for at this point is that there might be some shred of decency in the dead heart of the evil man who stood before her. Barring that unlikely event, she poured all of her hope and love and being into the belief that the ritual had indeed worked as planned. She might die, but in doing so, her son would live. "Don't kill Harry! Please - I'll do anything -"

"Stand aside," Voldemort growled and advanced despite the young woman's resolutely raised wand. "Stand aside, you silly, foolish girl," he snarled when she shook her head and defiantly stood her ground with an expression liken to that of a lioness defending her cub. Enraged by her defiance, he finally struck with his usual neat efficiency despite the unfamiliar feeling of regret that killing this girl inspired. 

"Out of my way! Avada Kedavra!"

Not even bothering to defend herself, Lily turned her head and looked at her son one last time as green light flared in the room and her vision went black. Lily Potter never felt her body hit the floor.

Looking at the black haired, green eyed child that lay in the crib a few meters away, Voldemort contemplated taking the child and twisting him into the heir he would likely never have. Annoyed by the even more strident screams of the boy child and suddenly filled with the certainty that the child would betray him if he kept him near, the Dark Lord turned his wand on the child he knew in his darkest heart of hearts would be the one to bring him down and said the two words that ensured his end.

"Avada Kedavra," he whispered, his yew wand aimed at the heart of a fifteen month old toddler. Green light flashed out towards the baby boy and every detail in the room suddenly burst into stark relief as a dark green and black aura filled the room and intercepted the Killing Curse half way between the Dark Lord's wand and its intended target.

"What..?" Staring in stunned disbelief at this unexpected and unexplainable phenomenon, Voldemort stood rooted to the spot and struggled against the suddenly crushing force that gripped his tall, slender form and lifted it from the floor. He felt himself being jerked forward and fought frantically to escape the green energy he was abruptly yanked into. He screamed and went abruptly silent as his life force was ripped from his body. An explosion of magical energy shattered the Sealing that had been cast around it and rocked the small cottage to its very foundations, leaving most of the remaining structure smouldering and barely intact.

Writhing from pain in his scorched and splintered crib, Harry James Potter whimpered and cried weakly while blood ran down his forehead and onto his pale, tear streaked face.

In London, Sirius Orion Black paused in the process of getting ready to go to Godric's Hollow when a wave of foreboding made him go cold. Uncertain where the feeling had come from, knowing with a gut certainty that the source had something to do with James, Lily and Harry, he rushed to the coat cupboard and grabbed his heaviest jacket on his way to the door; he made it two steps towards the door before the first death hit him through the ritual bond and sent to his knees with a wail of loss as the bond was severed violently.

Lily's death followed before he had even begun to acknowledge James' loss and he slumped forward, wracking sobs holding him where he had fallen. Face wet with tears, he cried for the emptiness he felt and almost welcomed the oblivion of unconsciousness that hit him like the Knight Bus when the oath he had sworn ripped at his magical core for the power it required to save Harry's threatened life.

Pacing restlessly in the potions lab at Hogwarts, Severus Snape knew that something had to have gone wrong. Voldemort had sent out a summons, held back a mere handful of his inner circle after a brief rallying speech about ending the war that night and then sent everyone else away.

He had immediately rushed to Hogwarts to report to Albus so that the Order could be alerted to the impending threat of violence. The older wizard had assured him that everyone would be safe before sending him down to the safety and quiet of the labs and he now wondered if anyone had been sent to warn the Potters and Longbottoms that the attack they had feared might now be occurring.

A numbing wave of despair rushed up to fill his thoughts just before he was dropped by the deaths of his friends and Severus Snape started to scream when the magic they had wrought dragged at his own magical essence, followed by the nearly fatal effects of the death throws of the Dark Lord. Comatose and wracked by periodic convulsions, he lay sprawled on the cold stone floor as the carefully hidden Mark on his forearm faded and disappeared as if it had never been.

Laughing with the Auror twins Remi and Etienne in their flat in Paris after a long day of information gathering and political manoeuvre, Remus felt the long distance distress of his Pack-mates and sobered abruptly. His instincts screamed for him to go help his pack mates while his human mind made the assumption that what they had prepared for had come to pass and focused on protecting his companions as much as he could in case there was magical backlash.

"Remus? What's wrong, Mon ami?" Etienne reached out to pat the suddenly very serious and worried looking werewolf on the shoulder, only to frown when the slightly younger man drew away and shook his head vigorously. "Are you ill? I know it isn't the moon…"

"Something bad…my pack…" Sliding out of his seat to kneel on the floor, Remus flinched as if he had been struck physically when James' death filtered through the bond. Reeling from the loss of the man he considered his Pack Leader, oblivious to the two friend's who were trying to help him when the death of his acknowledged Pack Alpha's mate sent his system into shock, he threw his head back and loosed repeated mournful howls, only to shriek as the final strike against Harry stripped him of most of his magical reserves and left him curled on the floor in a shuddering, unconscious ball.

An alarm went off in the office of one Albus Dumbledore and the elderly wizard turned a grim gaze to the device. Studying it for a moment, he sighed heavily and shut it off with a wave of his hand.

"It is done," he whispered and wondered for the first time if he had made the right choice in choosing to set the events into motion that had culminated with this night's events. "Whether it truly was the only way to see Voldemort's end or not." Rising, he turned to the fireplace, threw in a bit of floo powder and called out a destination before sticking his head in the fire.

"Hagrid's Hut! Hagrid!"

"Albus! Wha's wron'?" Hagrid asked, dark eyes wide with the surprise of the older man's abrupt appearance in his fireplace. "'As somefin' 'appened?"

"The very worst has come to pass, my dear boy. The Potters have been betrayed and Voldemort attacked them this very night. I need you to take the port key I gave you and go investigate the cottage while I get as many Order members together as possible in case there is another attack."

"A'cours' Albus! 'M goin' na'!" Hagrid fumbled in his pockets before coming up with a large disc that looked woefully small in his hands. "Is it truly the wors'?" the half-giant asked timidly, eyes already filling with tears over the loss of people he had considered the best of friends.

"I fear that it is, Hagrid, so hurry! The faster we know the true outcome, the faster we can organize and muster our defences!" Albus urged and backed out of the fire to sever the communication. Shaking his head, the white haired wizard pulled a medallion from under his robe and whispered a short phrase to summon the members of the Order of the Phoenix to Hogwarts. There would still be Death Eaters to mop up even if Tom had been properly eliminated.

Rallying himself through some force of will he hadn't thought he possessed, Sirius staggered to his feet and swayed dizzily. Fumbling for the heavy leather coat that lay at his side and the wand he kept hidden in its inner pocket, the Marauder stumbled drunkenly from his flat and down the stairs to his motorcycle. He lacked the magic and physical energy to concentrate sufficiently for anything other than getting down a simple flight of stairs and doubted he would have even been able to apparate.

Slumping over the 'fuel tank' of the magical motorcycle once he had managed to get his leg far enough over to actually sit on the bike, he panted and slowly levered himself up to sit properly so he could start the bike and get it moving.

"I'm on my way, Pronglet," he muttered and roared away into the night.


End file.
